His Christmas Angel (A Regency Holiday Romance Book 8) (3 page)

“I...I can’t do it, Clarence. I won’t be sold off like a piece of property, especially not to that horrid man.”

“Of course you won’t be. You are not a piece of property, Ann. You are your own independent person. You are not chattel. Who…who has put such a ridiculous notion in your head?”

“My father. He says I must do my duty as his daughter, and by doing my duty, I must heed his every whim and fancy, and he wants me to…” her voice broke, she looked as if she was going to start sobbing, “It seems, Clarence…it seems my father has lost almost everything to Sir Wilfrid Culpepper, and the only way to keep what he has left, is to marry me off to that vile beast. Sir Wilfrid told him he wanted me—and that he would do anything to possess me.”

Rage simmered within Clarence. Devil take Sir Wilfrid. Clarence wanted to see Ann’s father pay for doing such a reprehensible thing.

“That bastard? No. You can’t marry him, Ann.” Of course, as far as Clarence was concerned, she couldn’t marry anyone but him. He wanted her so desperately, he would do anything to have her as his wife. Anything at all.

“I…I have no other options. I am in a Point Non Plus…unless…unless, you would marry me, Clarence.” Her voice wavered on, marry me, and he swallowed thickly. He didn’t want her fearing marriage to him, the way she feared marriage to Culpepper.

Good God. His dreams were all coming true. He needed to pinch himself. He blinked a few times, attempting to deduce if what he had just heard was real.

“Did…did you just ask me to marry you?” he asked softly, not quite able to believe his ears.

“Aye,” she said, turning a bright scarlet. “I need another man’s protection, and if you won’t marry me because I have been so terrible to you—I understand, Clarence. I have been an utter wretch to you, and my behaviour toward you has been quite unforgivable, and I am so very sorry for it. I shall never be able to atone for it, but I swear to you, I shall try.”

So that was it.

She wanted him to marry her so she could avoid the match her father had made for her. He couldn’t blame her, really. He wouldn’t want to marry someone his father picked out for him, although, he bet his father would pick someone a bit better than the female equivalent of Sir Wilfrid.

She had said she needed a man’s protection. Finally, she regarded him as a man—not a boy. Relief flooded through him, and he found himself grinning like the besotted fool he was.

She took a deep shaky breath, and continued, “I am unworthy of you, Clarence. I know that. I know that you might have found another lady to focus your attentions upon. But I always knew I wasn’t good enough for you. I knew that from the first moment you started to pursue me. I am too old for you, and I am certainly not pretty enough for you—but, but I am rather fond of you when it comes right down to it, and I think you and I would make a good match. We are good friends aren’t we? There is one caveat that might make me undesirable. And I understand if you don’t want me because of it. I have no dowry. I come to you without anything of real value to my name.

“Indeed, I fled the house as you see me in this sorry state, because I didn’t want to take the time to change. I didn’t want to take any more that I had to of the things my father had bought for me. I am not going back, you see. I never want to see my papa again. I don’t ever want to clap eyes on him again.” She was talking in a hurried way, and repeating herself, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t get enough of listening to her, and staring at her. Oh, how he adored her. “So you see, Clarence, if you turn me away, I shan’t know where I will go. I shall be quite desperate. All of my relatives will tell me to do my duty as a dutiful daughter should, and I don’t want to, Clarence, I don’t want to. I don’t want to be dutiful…at least not with Sir Wilfrid. I…uh, that is to say…” Her cheeks were now a burning scarlet, and she had red splotches on her neck, and they disappeared under her chemisette. “I…I would do my wifely duties with you, Clarence. I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t turn you away. I…I just won’t become a virgin sacrifice to Culpepper, I fear that would be a fate worse than death. I have heard terrible whisperings of what he is like with women. They say awfully revolting things, and I realize quite keenly that I wasn’t supposed to be listening when I heard what I heard…but Clarence…I won’t share a life and a bed with that frightful man. With you—with you, I know things would be different. I know you would not be beastly to me. I do not think I would be tempted to shirk my duties as your wife.”

Tempted to shirk her duties? If he had his way, she wouldn’t want to leave his bed—ever.

She was awkwardly attempting to convince him to marry her, and yet, he was already convinced. He would marry her within the hour, if it was possible. He didn’t need to hear any of her reasons for why she wanted him. He didn’t have to be persuaded. He wanted her—he didn’t care if she wanted him as much as he desired her, and maybe…maybe he should, maybe he should want more from her. Here she was offering herself on a silver platter to him, and all he could think was to remain calm, and not look too eager.

Impulsively, and so much out of character for her, it took his breath away, Ann jumped off the sofa, and came over to him. Lowering herself to her knees, she looked up at him with her wide warm brown eyes, filled with fear and longing. She reached for his hands, and leaned onto his lap with most of her upper body. This was definitely not proper—at all.

He lost himself in that beautiful gaze of hers. Her eyes were brimming tears, and he wanted to make all of it better for her. “I will do anything, Clarence,” she said, her voice breathless. The intoxicating sound of it made his gut twist. He had to remain calm. He couldn’t react as passionately as he wanted. “Please, Clarence, say I don’t have to go back there. Say that you will have me. Say that you will give me shelter from the storm. I am throwing myself on your mercy. Tell me what you want me to do, and I shall do it. You order and I will obey.”

He had everything he had ever wanted. Everything he had ever desired. She was his. All he had to do was accept her.

Still, he didn’t like seeing her so lowered. He didn’t like seeing her so desperate.

He pulled away from her, and she looked bereft until he reached for her small delicate hands, and held them beneath his, finally coming out of love’s drunken stupor, he felt her hands and realized that she was far too cold. “Why, Ann, you are frozen. You are chilled right down to the bone. You will catch your death. Come, and let us move closer to the fire, so you can warm yourself.”

“If I did catch my death, it wouldn’t matter. Not if you won’t have me. Life will no longer be worth living.”

He stood up, gently lifting her to her feet. He wrapped his arm protectively around her and brought her closer to the crackling fire. They stood there for a few moments until he was satisfied that she was warm enough. Leaving her in the chair that he had vacated, as it was closer to the fire, he went and told the footman to have the Cook prepare some hot chocolate and to bring some shortbread to them. The time had passed so quickly that he almost forgot just how close they were to Christmastide. He would have his greatest wish for Christmas, praise God.

He would finally have his Christmas Angel.

Clarence shut the doors to the Library once the footman had left, and turned back to silently regard Ann.

He hoped she would not notice him staring. She sat in his chair, with her shoulders slumped, obviously believing that she had come to him on a fool’s errand. How could she think that he would refuse her anything that she wanted of him? He was her servant. He could deny her nothing. He had always been ready to give her whatever she wanted and yet, she didn’t seem to realize that. Had she not realized how doggedly he had pursued her? Had she not seen the ardor in his eyes whenever they had been near one another? Hadn’t she felt it when he’d held her in his arms, and swept her out onto the dance floor? Granted, some of the dances had been of the less scandalous variety, but he had always engaged her whenever it was a dance where they would be in close proximity to each other. Even if it was just a passing caress, he coveted those particular sets.

“Ann,” he said softly. She lifted her head, to look over at him. He didn’t care if she wasn’t in love with him. He would woo her as his wife, and make her fall in love with him. The only way to keep her from that sodding bastard was to marry her. She was right. There was no other way. He would have to go and fetch a special license, and they would have to be married quietly, and without any fanfare. He would gather what family and friends he had in London, and they could be married here at Evesham House, without delay, as soon as he could enlist a vicar to perform the ceremony.

“Yes, Clarence?” She always called him Clarence with that hopeful lilt to her voice, and the tone of her voice always made his heart skip a beat. Privately, they had always been Clarence and Ann to each other. He supposed it was because she was such bosom chums with his sister, Ginny.

In the not so distant past, he had tempted scandal by sending her love letters, and other tokens of his affection. Things that weren’t exactly proper—and yet, he had done it. To think she doubted that he would take her as his bride. Hadn’t she read any of his letters? Hadn’t she opened any of the gifts? Maybe she hadn’t. Maybe they had all been kept from her because they were quite scandalous, and she was so innocent. She was so pure.

Pure hearted, and pure of body. She was a veritable angel on Earth.

“I love you, Ann. I have loved you for as long as I can remember. I could never deny you anything,” he confessed, “I won’t make you go back to your father’s house. You can remain here and I will make you my wife. I will make you the Countess of Evesham.”

She let out a shuddering sigh of relief. “I don’t care about titles, Clarence. I only want to be your wife, and you agreeing to marry me—to become my husband, and my protector, to give me refuge with you, it has made me exceedingly happy. You have slayed my debilitating fears, noble knight, you have my undying gratitude for doing so.”

If only she could return his love in kind. If only, he wasn’t her means of escaping a controlling father.

He had to take her however he could get her, and right now…she was his for the taking. So what the bloody hell was he waiting for?

He took a step forward, and she stood up. “I know that I will never be able to repay your kindness to me, Clarence. I am in your debt. I will be in your debt for the rest of my life. I shall never ever be able to repay you, for you have granted me something quite priceless. You have granted me my freedom. I shan’t be able to repay that debt, not for as long as I live.” Clarence didn’t realize that Ann could be so—dramatic with her words. It was actually quite appealing to him. “And…I will be a good wife, I know you might have your reservations about that…but you may cast them aside. I shall be a good and dutiful wife. You will see, Clarence. I will, so help me, I will, this I vow.”

He moved to her, and took her hands in his again, clasping them tightly, and holding them against his chest.

“Are you quite certain that you want to marry me?” he asked, needing to hear it again and again. He probably still wouldn’t believe it after they had exchanged their vows, and been pronounced man and wife. She had to know that she would be crossing the Rubicon. There would be no coming back from this. He would have no regrets. He could only pray that she would feel the same way.

“Yes,” she said, without a trace of doubt in her voice. “And we must hasten to be made tenants for life before Sir Wilfrid returns from France, and decides to wreak havoc with our lives—he will try to keep us from being married. He will be utterly dismayed to hear that I have found a way to avoid marrying him. My father will be seething with unbridled fury. He will have no possible way to get himself out of dun territory now. I do not think he can sell my brother James to him—and James is the only child left that hasn’t found someone to marry. Alas, my brother is a libertine, and I do not think he shall ever forsake his reckless ways long enough to find himself a wife. He shall be terribly vexed when he hears that I have found a way to avoid marrying that disgusting rapscallion. I am quite certain he was rejoicing in my unfortunate circumstance.”

Clarence grinned like the besotted fool he was at her, and lifted her hands to kiss them.

“Their misery shall be our happiness. I shall away at once to obtain a special license for us.”

“Father might attempt to come and fetch me, Clarence. He won’t allow me to slip out of his grasp so easily. He will be absolutely livid. He will think he can barge in here, and take me by force if necessary—he rather thinks he owns the world when it comes to me. His bravado knows no bounds.”

“Fat lot of good that will do him if I leave watchdogs with you. Watchdogs that are more than a match for Lord Broadway.”

“Watchdogs?” She inclined one of her dainty eyebrows.

“Aye. Lord Prescott and Lord Spaulding are here staying with me. They won’t let your father past the front door, should you wish him to be kept away from you. They are rather intimidating fellows, and I do not think that he shall have enough courage to even attempt to get past them. Bravery and bravado are two entirely different things. These chaps are loyal and brave.”

“We shall make quite the stir within the ton, Clarence,” she said softly. “The gossipmongers shan’t be kind. They shall tear our reputations to shreds.”

“When were they ever kind? Devil take anyone who gossips about us, Ann. We aren’t doing anything wrong. I…I shall treat you like the lady you are.” He wanted to stay with her and enjoy this closeness they had built between them. When he was around Ann, he found that he could barely think of anyone else.

“I never worried about that…I worried that your good name will be tarnished by giving me sanctuary. And I do not want to bring that sort of grief to your doorstep. I couldn’t bear it, if I was responsible for anything that causes you harm. I would not have you ever think ill of me—I couldn’t bear the thought of you ever resenting me, Clarence.”

“Perish the thought, Ann. I could never think that way about you. Please believe that.”

Keeping away from her for so long had caused him more harm than good. If only she had allowed him to court her months ago. They would have already been married. He knew his parents, particularly his mother, believed he was too young for Ann. More to the point, she thought he was too young to be married.

The footman quietly opened the Library door, and brought in a tray containing their hot chocolate and biscuits. While he didn’t have Mrs. Macintosh as his cook, he did have one almost as proficient at her craft. He had asked Mrs. Macintosh for suggestions on whom to hire as his Cook, and she had given him several women to consider. He had finally settled on hiring another Scotswoman, and her name was Mrs. Gilmore.

He walked her over to the sofa, and they sat down on it. He was so close to Ann, he could smell her beguiling perfume. It was a delicate scent, and one he had always been fond of. She smelled like violets. He loved violets, and he loved her.

She looked at the cup of hot chocolate set before her. “I…I rarely drink hot chocolate, Clarence, and are those shortbread biscuits? Oh, what buttery goodness they must be. Oh, how they do tempt me. I…Father always said not to eat too freely in front of a gentlemen. He said it wasn’t seemly for a woman to look like a pig, although I admit, I am rather peckish.”

“Your father sounds like a proper pillock, Ann. I…never thought he would be like that. He always seems so genial when he is out and about.”

“Father likes to give that impression. However, now that you are about to become his son-in-law, he shan’t treat you with little regard. He treats all his family with disdain—save for his precious James. He likes to look like the sweetest man on Earth, to everyone that isn’t related to him by blood, and Clarence, he is anything but.” She reached for the steaming cup of chocolate, and raised it tentatively to her lips, blowing on it a bit, before she took a sip. As the liquid entered her mouth, sheer bliss reached her eyes, and after she swallowed, she gave him a shy smile. “Oh, that is lovely. It is most comforting,” she exclaimed, sighing contentedly.

“And it will warm you up. I wonder if my sisters will have some frocks for you to wear. You can hardly remain here without anything to wear.” He licked his lips, as he considered what he had just said. He could imagine keeping her here without anything to wear…he would definitely not mind that one bit. He cleared his throat nervously. Heat rushed to his cheeks at the scandalous thought, “I am not entirely certain you should remain here under my roof unchaperoned until we are married. Some might get the wrong idea.”

She gripped her cup of hot chocolate even tighter. “No…I cannot go anywhere else, Clarence. If I do, my father will find a way to retrieve me, and take me back to Broadway House. No…I must completely ruin myself, and stay here where he can’t touch me. Sir Wilfrid, well, he likes his maidens, or so I have heard—so the sooner I take care of that the better.” Clarence’s hands shook, and he dropped the biscuit he had reached for. He rushed to pick it up, and if she noticed, she pretended not to. “As for having things to wear,” she sighed. “…I honestly never considered that. I suppose if you gave me a clothing allowance, I could go and purchase a new wardrobe, a wedding trousseau, if you will, but it will take time for the dressmakers to have it all ready. Hopefully, Ginny or Valentina would be willing to let me have some items from their armoires.”

“Mama is about your size as well,” he said, clearing his throat in the way he did whenever he was ill at ease. What she had said concerning her innocence was on his mind. He would be lucky if he could focus on anything else. “She might have a few things she is willing to part with,” he mused. “And how did you come here? You don’t have your father’s carriage waiting for you, do you?”

“Oh, heavens, no,” she said, taking a tiny taste of the shortbread. She swallowed quickly, and continued, “I sent the carriage back. Fortunately, the coachmen are rather fond of me. They didn’t question my orders to return to Broadway House. I think they know that something is amiss—and they were more than happy to aid me in my escape from my irascible father. He is such a poisonous little toad. I could have just walked, but my mama insisted on summoning the carriage for me,” she sighed heavily, “Ah, how I will miss her. She is the only reason I was able to avoid this dreadful match. She opposed it from the start—even though my father told her he would do anything, and gladly sacrifice a daughter so he could ensure James’s legacy. He said that giving me to Sir Wilfrid was a trifling price to pay. The only child he has ever loved—the only child he has every thought to be priceless is James.” A tear slid down her cheek. He quickly reached for his handkerchief and gave it to her, and then realized she already had her own.

Clarence inwardly seethed at her words. “Lord Moreton and I have never exactly seen eye to eye. He told me to stay away from you once. We saw each other—well,” he tugged at his cravat, and nervously cleared his throat. “We saw each other somewhere that respectable ladies like you are not found, and he said that I was a fool to think I could ever have you…and then, in the same breath, told me I wouldn’t want you anyway, because you were quickly turning into an old hag and said that I could find something better without much work. He is not exactly a devoted brother—and he is certainly not the sort I would ever call friend.”

“James is ten years my senior,” she said softly. “And yet, he has always been cruel to me concerning our ages. He takes great delight out of taunting me about how many years I have been on this Earth. He used to make jokes on my birthday about how I was getting one year older, and therefore, closer to the grave, and then he would laugh in such a gleeful way—it twisted my gut.”

“Thunder an’ turf, he is a bloody bastard,” Clarence spat out. “Ah, well, I suppose we both do not have to pay your father or your brother any mind now. We shall certainly make them both lay a large egg when they find out what we have done, eh? We are really going to throw a rub in the way,” he chuckled, and finished off his hot chocolate.

He stood up. If he sat next to her much longer, he would be tempted to do something that wasn’t exactly befitting of the situation. Her beguiling scent was tempting him so. Whenever he was near her, he wanted to kiss and hold her. He walked over to his chair and sat in it. Yes, this was a much safer place to be.

“I have never done anything so rebellious in my life,” she whispered, losing all colour. He needed to bolster her spirits, and take her mind off of all that had transpired that day.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked.

She chuckled. “I suppose you could put it that way.” They regarded each other for a few long blissful moments.